A few years ago I started getting mail — like mail in the mailbox out in front of the house mail — from AARP. I knew what it was from the envelope, so I didn’t open it. None of it. Let me say this up front: I’m not voluntarily checking into some old folks’ club just to save 15 cents on a burger. Screw that.
The persistent little fogies at AARP kept sending me stuff, though, and now they’re onto Mary Jo, too. Every week we get letters. Promises of a free gift for joining. (I think it’s a hearing aid or something.) Discounts just for AARP members. (Buffets galore!) A subscription to AARP The Magazine. (Where they advertise hearing aids, ED drugs and other magazines.)
All you have to do is pay your annual dues and they’ll send you a card confirming that you’re a cheap old bastard.
No thanks. Not buying. Now get off of my lawn and out of my mailbox.
I thought AARP was the worst, but a few weeks ago I got the above letter, from some geezer club called the Neptune Society. The “most trusted cremation expert in the United States.”
Back off, dammit. Just back the heck off.
One thought on “Back the heck off”
[…] When you’re young and invincible, which I’m pretty sure I once was, health insurance sits on your “List of Things to Consider … Someday,” slightly below stashing cash into a 401k and way above picking out a burial plot. […]